Chemistry
by GoddessofShadow
Summary: When Gwen Terran is captured and tortured for a mistaken bond to Bruce Banner she's in for an unpleasant surprise. But when the Avengers save her, and she becomes a rather valuable asset, and strange new creature for S.H.E.I.L.D to investigate her world is turned upside down. Especially when feelings being to develop for the dear Dr. Banner. Bruce/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Please leave a review and tell me what you think!**

Low, and slow and haunting, ringing through her throbbing head and echoing off the dark walls the note hung in the air. And then there was another note, then another, the whistling turning into a tune. She knew the song, London Bridge. She and her sister used to play that little game with their mother.

The whistling stopped and turned into a voice that caused her skin to turn to gooseflesh and the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end, "My fair lady." The voice was unmistakably a man's, deep and husky, laced with a heavy Scottish accent.

"I always loved that, and how you American's sang it like it was yours," he snorted and she squirmed, wincing as rope dug into her wrists and ankles. She was on her back, her head tied down and she must have been blindfolded. She could see light shining through the black fabric, like the sun shining through black clouds.

She opened her mouth to speak but her jaw felt like a rusty hinge as it scraped open and a small groan slid through her now loose jaw, her breath burning her chapped lips. The man laughed and she felt his fingers sliding up the inside of her forearm and she stiffened. Her throat contracted and her heart beat hard against her ribs. She wondered if he could hear it, floundering about in her chest.

"It's a shame he chose you," the man sighed, clicking his tongue and running a gentle hand over her cheek, "you're almost to pretty to torture." She wanted to throw up, she could feel the bile rising, burning the back of her throat but there was nothing for her to throw up, leaving her with a silent gag that she covered with a cough. His hands were on her again, touching her hair, the blindfold, her lips, intimate, like they were lovers.

"What do you want from me?" It hurt, and her voice sounded foreign in her own ears, like whoever was speaking was a great distance away. Her voice was hoarse and weak, and each word sounded as though she was choking. She felt as though she just might. She had swallowed a mouthful of sand once in elementary school, and that's exactly how she felt; only this time the sand was shattered glass.

"Information," he hissed and she cringed, flinching away from him but her movement was limited and he sighed. He touched her again, on her shoulders, then her chest, trailing down her arms to her hand. His hands were rough and big, and she could see his outline through her blindfold. He was tall and thick, with broad shoulders and a lean waist.

"About what, I don't know anything!" It seemed like the millionth time she'd said it but for some reason he refused to believer. She cried and begged and pleaded but it didn't seem to touch him. All he wanted to know was what she didn't.

"As you keep saying," the man sighed and she could hear the frown in his voice, "I really don't like torturing you. Just give me something, anything, and then I can let you go." She heard this puff of a fire starting, the distinctive sound of metal against coal. Her heart lurched, her throat tightening as panic gripped her.

"I don't know anything!" She tried again but he simply sighed, clicking his tongue again and she heard metal scrape against coals, shuffling them about in the fire and she couldn't breathe. She closed her eyes despite the blindfold and bit down hard on her back teeth so she wouldn't bite her tongue.

He pulled the iron from the fire and she screamed as he pressed it against her outer thigh then rolled it to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He rolled the rod back and forth until the metal was warm but painless to touch and threw the rod back into the fire. He momentarily watched sparks fly up from the coals before turning back to her.

"Now tell me how he did it! How did Bruce Banner use gamma radiation to turn himself into the Hulk?" The man whispered low and urgent in her ear. She couldn't tell him even if she had the answer, he leg still burned as if the iron was pressed to it. She wanted to scream, to thrash, to dive into a pool of ice and never move. She knew it would be healed by morning as it always was, but the pain in the moment was maddening.

"I don't know," she managed through her teeth, the muscles in her jaw cramping, "I've only talked to Dr. Banner once, and it was briefly, it had nothing to do with gamma." She had told him this before; like she had told him she didn't know before. She was telling him the truth but it hadn't been what he wanted, so he kept going. Pushing her for something that she didn't know, didn't have.

"Why? Why did you talk to him? What did you need to know that he knew?" The man asked and she heard him step away from the fire. She would have been relieved had her thigh not still been burning like mad. Not being able to move made it worse for some reason; not being able to thrash and cringe away from the pain seemed to intensify it.

"I was a student at the university and he was a friend of my professor. I ran into him one day and we just talked," this was something she hadn't told him. It was like he was uncovering something new and he was getting excited. He was staying away from the fire.

"What did you talk about?" The man asked his voice dropping, becoming almost gentle. She flinched as he touched her knee. She braced herself as his had slid up her leg, resting on the burn and her nerves exploded with pain. The heat of his hand against the burn caused a whimper to slip through her lips and she bit down on her lip.

"We talked about life, what I was studying, how I liked my professor, if I needed any help," he lifted his hand, moving it up to her hip. She paid it little mind, God it hurt. It hurt like hell and she wanted to jump up and down and roll on the floor and scream and cry at the top of her lungs. But instead she tensed and settled for strangled grunts.

"What were you studying?" The man asked and she felt her stomach tie into a knot as his hand slid farther up, and underneath the fabric of her shirt. His hands were hot and sticky with she didn't want to know what and she flinched as he ran his hand over her lower abdomen. He worked his way up to her ribs, his finger tracing each one.

"Chemistry for pharmaceuticals, but I dropped out after the first quarter, haven't seen him since," she gasped. His hand slid back out from her shirt and for a moment she felt slightly relieved, before she heard him move towards the fire and she whimpered.

She heard the rod scrape against coals and she balled her hands into fists, tensing and trying to prepare herself for the pain. However the rod never reached her, there was a crash and the rod clattered to the ground. The Scottish man stumbled back, staring past her at she didn't know what.

She wasn't exactly sure what happened. But she felt her binds cut loose, and she immediately wanted to bolt up. She wanted to jump up and run away and never look back but she knew the chances were slim as she found it hard just to lower her arms to her sides.

Suddenly it was too bright and she blinked, scowling at the light. She let her eyes adjust and she could see someone was leaning over her. Then she could see the shape of their face, and their brown curls against the light. Then she saw big puppy dog brown eyes and a look of genuine concern across his face. The last thing she saw before drifting into nothing was the face of Dr. Bruce Banner.


	2. Chapter 2

He remembered her. Staring down at her limp figure on the white hospital bed in the Avengers tower, he remembered her. She had been younger when they had first met but then so had he. She had been eighteen, a freshman at the university. He remembered it must have been cold because she had been bundled in winter clothes, her lips had been deep red, her cheeks wind chapped, and her eyes were absolutely stunning.

Her eyes in fact, were the reason he remembered her so vividly. He had never seen anything quite like them. They were wolf like, lined in long dark lashes, but the most striking thing had been the irises, the shocking color of pale steel.

He remembered the way it felt as he met her eyes, the way it felt like she was staring through him and he was overwhelmed by emotion. He remembered how when she smiled it lit up her entire face and made him smile as well. He remembered when she laughed it had been quite and sweet, and he wanted to keep himself from laughing just so he could hear her.

He also remembered how innocent she had seemed. Not naïve or clueless but innocent, still somehow pure of all the foul things always around her. It was strange how much it had drawn him in made him wonder about her, what her past was like, and what she planned for the future.

She stirred, groaning softly as her lashes fluttered and her lids slid open, staring unseeingly up at the ceiling. Bruce blinked down at her, snapped out of his reverie moving over to her side and then stopping looking down at her leg. It had been burned, badly. The skin had been blackened and flaking off and the flesh and muscle underneath was red raw. Now it was completely healed, no sign of the burn other than the slightly ruddy skin.

Bruce bit his lips, _what had her name been? Her name, her name, her name…_ "Gwen," he said slowly and she blinked blearily over at him, her silver eyes clouded over. He stepped forward slowly, like one might approach a frightened animal, "Gwen it's me Bruce Banner, we've met before."

Gwen turned to look at him and he swallowed as he met her striking eyes. She looked frail and unhealthily lean and he wondered when the last team she had eaten had been. Her black hair was messy and hung loose around her now sickly pale face, and her full lips were rather purple. She opened her mouth as though to speak but all that came out was a groan and she turned away from him.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Why was he torturing you?" Natasha was leaning forward in a chair facing Gwen who they had managed to get well enough to at least sit and have a conversation. Some of the color had returned to her face so her skin looked more porcelain than pale, her lips were once more a healthy pink, and her hair had been brushed and washed, hanging damp and stringy past her shoulders.

"We aren't interrogating her Natasha, take it easy," Bruce frowned over at the copper haired woman beside him. Natasha had a good heart; she just came across a bit aggressive in just about everything she did. Although Clint didn't seem to mind it too much, and he was her complete opposite, quiet and subtle, deadly in a much different way.

"He wanted information," Gwen said and they both looked over at her, her eyes down cast to the cup in her hands, her damp hair hanging in her face, "he was asking me about Dr. Banner, and his gamma radiation." She glanced up at them through her hair and they both frowned at her, Natasha pursing her round lips, and Bruce adjusting his glasses.

"Please don't call me that," Bruce sighed. It had always bothered him when people addressed him with a title, he knew it was the polite, respectful thing to do, but it drove him crazy. "Just call me Bruce," he said, smiling gently over at her and she gave a slight smile back. It wasn't much but it was something.

"Why … do you know why he needed the information?" Natasha asked trying to be a little less abrasive frowning as she glanced between Gwen and Bruce. She might not have been subtle but she could pick up on subtleties, and she could tell there was something going on, at least for Bruce.

"I'm not… I'm not sure, I couldn't really give him any information, I don't really know doctor… Bruce too well, I'd only met him once before. I told him this but he seemed pressed on finding something out from me," Gwen looked between the two, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip the way she did when she was nervous.

Natasha and Bruce frowned at each other as they thought, so many possibilities spinning through their heads it was hard to pin one down. Bruce didn't like it though, the thought of someone using gamma radiation the way he had. Having to deal with the havoc and aftermath those who normally worked with gamma radiation wrought.

"I think… that, whoever he was, wanted to replicate your research," Gwen spoke up suddenly and they both turned to her, her eyes shifting between the two as if not sure who to look at, "I think he wanted to create another Hulk." Her eyes finally came to rest on Bruce and she bit down on her bottom lip. He was handsome, his hair was beginning to gray but he was still handsome and looked much the same.

It had been four years since they had met, said a word to each other, or even looked at each other but she felt as though no time had passed since they had last seen one another. He hadn't had, the Hulk, when they had first met, but that was why had been at the university. He had gone to talk to her professor about formulas, make sure everything seemed sound enough. She knew that now, but then it had meant nothing, just friends talking about old times and science.

"Why would he want to do that?" Bruce frowned and Natasha looked as though she was thinking the exact same thing. Natasha glanced over Gwen sizing her up and then looking at Bruce. Gwen was young, still a child in Natasha's eyes, still innocent. She was petite and lean, built like a ballerina and Natasha found herself wondering if the girl danced.

"Hey you guys, Scotty is awake if you would like to question him instead of doll face," his voice was smug and confident and Bruce rolled his eyes. There stood Tony Stark, grinning and winking at Gwen like a high school boy.


	3. Chapter 3

The man who had tortured her sat in an interrogation room, leaning casually on the table in front of him. He was rather attractive, dark brown hair, skin golden from the sun, and eyes that were a stunning jade green. He was tall and bulky; his arms corded with muscle and his face lean and sharp. However the left side of his face was horribly disfigured, twisted and marred by three long scars.

Natasha sat across from him; leaning forwards both of them staring at each other his gaze cool, and uncaring, hers sharp and ferocious. But neither wavered, and Gwen chewed on her lip as she stood between Bruce and Tony, watching from behind the one-way mirror. Gwen found herself glancing over at Tony rather often in shock.

She had grown up seeing him on T.V. On the news for some great weapon he had created or some party he had gone to and gotten completely wrecked. He was very much as she imagined him, except not as tall. But he was handsome and cocky, a little big arrogant, narcissistic, and very sarcastic, but he had a heart somewhere in all of it.

Gwen glanced over at Bruce who was everything Tony wasn't, or maybe Tony was everything Bruce wasn't. Bruce was quite, reserved, sweet and gentle, and subtle, his brown eyes glazed with melancholy unlike Tony's who always shined with confidence. She knew who he was, or _what_ he was, everyone did, but it didn't bother her. She rather admired him for it.

Her attention was turned to Natasha as she spoke, "who was the girl you were torturing for information?" She asked sharply, her voice anything from gentle. Gwen found herself rather glad she wasn't the man sitting opposite from her. But he hardly blinked, in fact he almost smiled.

"Gwyneth, or Gwen Terran, but you already know that _Black Widow_, or should I call you Ms. Romanoff? Natasha perhaps," the Scottish man grinned smugly and Gwen frowned, this guy did his research.

"Then why don't you tell me who you are?" Natasha didn't blink and Tony let out a low whistle that probably signified how they all were feeling at the moment.

"Oh I'm not important, I'm just an errand boy really," he shrugged settling back in his chair, his green eyes shifting over to the mirror, and Gwen felt her stomach twist. She knew he couldn't see her, but she felt like he was looking straight at her.

"Who are you running errands for?"

"Oh I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to, all I know is he wants Banner's research, what for I don't know," the man shrugged and Natasha frowned.

"You don't know an awful lot. Do you at least know why Gwen was chosen?" Natasha asked and Gwen held her breath, and she felt Bruce and Tony look at her at the same time.

"He said she could get me close to Banner, I knew she didn't know anything, but he knew you would come to the rescue," the man smirked, "and look where I am."

Gwen felt her chest tighten and she felt suddenly dizzy, she felt a hand on her shoulder and another on her elbow as her vision blurred and suddenly she was staring up at the ceiling. It had been for nothing, nothing; the hot iron, being held underwater until it burned her throat and nose from inhaling it, a knife splitting her skin. Days of screaming and crying, saying the same thing over and over for _nothing_. Tony and Bruce leaned over her as she struggled to breathe, exchanging a worried glance and she heard the Scottish man laugh.

"But why Gwen? He could have chosen anyone," Natasha asked and Gwen heard wood scrape against concrete.

"Because anyone else would have been left with scars, he didn't want to ruin a pretty face. You hadn't wondered? She claimed to have been tortured but she was left with no scars, sure you saw the burn when you rescued her, but it was gone by the time she woke," the man snorted, "I almost didn't believe it until I saw it. Besides she did have somewhat of a connection to Banner, just a brief meeting, but enough, something."

Tony glanced down at the bandage around her thigh, pulling away the gauze and glancing up at Bruce when he found nothing but pale skin. Bruce took a deep breath, he had known it was healed but he had tried to hide it. He knew that if S.H.E.I.L.D. found out she was special they would test her, like a lab rat. He understood how unpleasant it was, to feel like biology homework, he didn't want her to have to face that. But now there wasn't much of an option.

"That's all," Natasha said dismissively, and the door opened and suddenly she was beside Tony staring down at Gwen who had managed to sit up, Bruce still holding her shoulder. Her head was spinning trying to pin down exactly how she was feeling. But she wasn't sure how she wanted to feel, how she should feel. Except for the rather sudden urge to vomit which she was trying hard to force down.

Suddenly she was on her feet with Tony and Bruce on either side of her, half dragging her into the long hallway outside and into an open sitting room. She dropped into a chair, burying her head in her hands and resting her elbows on her knees. She tried not to focus on what she was feeling and just breathe which was proving to be harder than she thought.

"Gwen you need to calm down," Bruce's voice was gentle, and he spoke slowly, placing a hand on her arm and giving a gentle squeeze. She felt like she should say something, do something, defend herself but she wasn't sure how. She didn't even know why she should be defending herself. She was the victim wasn't she?

"Did you know, have you always had this… ability?" Tony asked and she glanced up at him, chewing hard on her bottom lip. She hadn't realized it but he was holding one of her hands in both of his and she blinked down at her small hand in his. His hands were so much bigger than hers that half of his right hand was wrapped around her wrist, her hand fitting almost completely in one of his.

"Ever since I was five, I fell and broke my arm, and it healed the next day, but I've always been … I'm more frail than most people, so the healing makes up for it I guess," She glanced between the two as she spoke and then stopped on Natasha who looked rather troubled, her eyes quickly going down to her feet as she met Gwen's eyes.

Gwen knew her eyes were unnerving, knew that she would probably look away too but it still hurt. Ever since she was little people would either stare or couldn't bear to look. And even when they stared it was always like watching a scary movie, you didn't want to watch but you just couldn't look away. She had tried wearing contacts but of course they looked fake, and then she got picked on.

"Would you let us do a blood analysis?" Bruce asked and she blinked up at him Tony even glanced over at him raising an eyebrow. Bruce glanced over at Tony and shrugged and it reminded Gwen of the way her brothers used to have silent conversations and she smiled sadly in spite of herself.

"Sure," she breathed nodding slightly and jumped as suddenly a blaring alarm went off that hurt her ears and she winced. It was like when they had fire drills in school only now she was told to stay where she was and Tony and Natasha ran off, leaving her with Bruce and she glanced over at him as he sat beside her.

A tall man with sandy blond hair and brown eyes ran in skidding to a stop and glancing between the two as the alarm went silent. "He escaped," the man breathed and Gwen once again found herself awed. Before her stood the one and only, Captain America.


	4. Chapter 4

**What do you guys think? Let me know, all reviews, critiques, and opinions are appreciated :]**

Gwen sat with Bruce as he quickly took a sample of her blood and sent it through some machine, placing a drop on a glass tray and placing it under a microscope. She watched him as he looked at the blood adjusting the lens, and wondered what he saw. She had never been one for science, she liked art, non-science. So in her mind it made sense.

"This is amazing," he breathed turning to look at her sitting down across from her, "everyone has platelets in their blood, that's what causes something to turn into a scab so it can heal. But yours, your cells regenerate so much faster that they aren't very strong but you heal incredibly fast, so fast you don't have platelets in your blood because you don't need them," Bruce told her as he looked at a computer screen with her blood analysis results on it.

"Wait… isn't excessive cell generation what causes tumors?" She asked not remembering exactly what her biology teacher had said. But she remembered cell growth and cancer somehow went together and it wasn't a comforting case.

"In most cases but your body only creates them when they're needed, so they aren't constantly being made. You don't have anything to worry about," he smiled over at her reassuringly and he felt his smile falter and his face grow warm as he looked at her. She looked as though she had been pulled from a black and white photo with her black hair, fair skin, and stunning silver eyes. Her silver eyes that were innocent and slightly sad, sharp and stunning like everything else about her. Her high cheekbones, her sharp jaw, her full red lips, her long lashes.

"You have… amazing eyes," he breathed before he could stop himself and sucked in his breath, staring at her wide eyed and red faced in mortification. He placed a hand over his mouth, pushing his lips against his teeth as her eyebrows went up and her cheeks went pink, and she smiled, giggling slightly. He felt his face get even hotter; she looked even more beautiful when she smiled.

"Thank-you, Bruce," she smiled and he cleared his throat nodding and smiling nervously back, turning back to his computer screen. His hands fumbled as he moved them about, not really sure what he was looking for and he stopped, sighing and pulling off his glasses setting them down on the table beside him, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"That was… horribly painful," Tony said from the door way and they both turned to look at him as he frowned at Bruce. He shook his head and walked over to Bruce, glancing over the computer screen, his eyebrows shooting up as he turned to look over at Gwen.

"Incredible isn't it?" Bruce asked and Tony nodded, running a hand through his hair and then turning to Gwen.

"Oh yes, Fury would like to see you, Bruce I believe I can trust you to show Ms. Terran the way," Tony nodded and Bruce frowned but stood and Gwen followed close behind, glancing back at Tony as the exited the lab. She watched Bruce as he walked, slightly hunched, his hands balling into fists and then opening again as he walked.

"Who's Fury?" She asked after a rather long couple of seconds and Bruce slowed his pace a bit so he could walk beside her.

"He's the director of S.H.E.I.L.D., Tony almost hates him," Bruce said glancing over at her, watching as she scowled at the floor.

"Why would Tony hate him?" She asked and Bruce made a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh and she quickly glanced up.

"Because he doesn't like to tell us everything, just what he wants us to know, to make us think what he wants us to think," Bruce shrugged, glancing over at her.

She frowned as they entered a room and there stood a man who must have been Fury, dressed in all black, an eye patch over one eye, talking to a ridiculously tall man with long golden hair, sun kissed golden skin, and sapphire eyes framed in flaxen lashes.

"Thor," Bruce said in surprise and the tall, golden statue of a man turned and grinned at Bruce, flashing flawless pearly teeth and then glancing at Gwen.

"Banner! And this must be Gwyneth," Thor beamed taking her hand and placing a light kiss upon her hand causing her to giggling shyly and blushed. Bruce rolled his eyes; Thor had a way of making women melt by yawning.

"I am Thor, and this is my brother, Loki," Thor motioned to a man as godly tall as himself but much leaner, his skin as pale as hers, and his hair just as black as hers, his eyes a stunning blue-green.

"Fury?" Bruce dragged out the name making it a question as he turned to the man trying to ignore his feeling of disgust as Loki stepped forward, repeating his brothers greeting but this time Gwen didn't giggle. She stared at him with a look all women gave Loki, like they had seen a kicked puppy dog and just wanted to hug it. Or they had seen the Norse god of mischief and he was storybook handsome.

"We're dealing with a villain Bruce, we figured we might as well get into one's head," Fury said, for the first time setting his intense gaze on Gwen.

"So you must be the girl, nice to meet you Miss Terran, I'm afraid our meeting is rather an unfortunate coincidence, but never the less you're here now," Fury said rather quickly and Gwen gaped unsure how to respond.

"It seems your _torturer_, has escaped," Gwen winced at the word torturer and she immediately felt three pairs of eyes glued to her, "Clint is tracking him to see if he can figure out who exactly is dishing out the orders behind all this."

Gwen nodded glancing quickly between the men and then clearing her throat, tossing her hair over her shoulder and straightening her back.

"Director Fury, I have had a couple of very long, trying days, and I am extremely… exhausted," Gwen said the word as if it were bitter, hating the sound of it, admitting weakness, but she tried to remind herself these people were her friends.

"Of course, Banner, would you please escort Miss Terran to her room," Fury half smiled, keeping his gaze on Gwen even as he spoke to Bruce.

Bruce nodded, leading Gwen swiftly from the room as glad to be gone as she was as she sighed, her shoulders slumping and her head dropping. For a second Bruce thought she might collapse and placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, looking down at her with genuine concern.

"So… how do you feel about sleeping under the same roof and Loki?" She asked suddenly as they walked his hand still on the small of her back for support.

"Not so good," Bruce grinned as he said it though, he doubted Loki felt any different only he was willing to bet Loki wasn't grinning. "What about you?"

"He's handsome… in a strange kind of way," she said, "like an evil prince kind of handsome, where his looks draw you in and then they do bad things. So you know… not so good."

Bruce chuckled slightly and she turned, looking over at him from the corner of her eye. He was handsome, dark brown curls, big brown eyes that said so much it was hard to understand it all. She wondered why he wasn't married and then she realized he turned into a green giant when angered. She couldn't stop the giggle from bubbling in her throat as she pictured him as the logo on a bag of frozen peas.


	5. Chapter 5

Gwen stood in front of the wall made completely of windows, her long raven hair shining like silver in the moon light, her skin and eyes reflecting the moon light back into the night. Her red lips stark and alive against the ivory and ebony coloration. She stood staring up at the moon, admiring it like one might admire a sad painting, her eyes far away. Her lean frame was hugged by what must have been one of Natasha's silk black night gowns because it came up short on her longer legs, showing more than made her comfortable.

She looked stunning like some sort of painting standing alone in the dark no color but that of her lips, the way the moon reflected off of her made Bruce wonder if perhaps she was some sort of foreign goddess, fallen from the moon. Gwen turned suddenly as he cleared his throat to announce his presence and her cheeks went a soft pink as she pulled at the hem of her nightgown.

"Beautiful isn't it?" She asked quickly but earnestly, turning back to the moon, crossing her arms as though she were hugging herself. Bruce walked up so he was standing next to her in gray sweat pants and a blue t-shirt. He looked over at her, the moon reflected in her pupils making it look as though she didn't have any, making her look even more supernatural.

"Stunning," he breathed never taking his eyes off of her, and she turned her head ever so slightly so she was looking at him through her wispy long lashes. She looked like a wolf in the moon, the shadows and pale light making every angle and line sharper and every contour darker, making her eyes look bigger, and more shocking, her lashes casting shadows across her cheekbones.

"The moon though … it's nice too," he breathed and she looked down, a small smile pulling at her mouth and Bruce felt the tension ease.

"Why did you do it? The gamma radiation, you knew you could have died, something could have gone wrong but you did it anyway…" she turned away from him, her eyes going back up to the moon, "why take the risk?"

Bruce took a deep breath; it hadn't quite been what he had been expecting of this conversation but he couldn't ignore her question.

"Thinking back on it I wish I hadn't, but I just… I felt like I could prove something, like I needed to prove something. It was nothing but young pride," he admitted.

She scoffed; a sad sounding bitter laugh and Bruce frowned as her eyes glazed over, her jaw clenching as she bit down hard on her teeth to keep her lip from quivering. Bruce didn't know if he should reach out and comfort her or just stay where he was.

"Pride has always been the downfall of men hasn't it? Persia, Rome, pride simply gets in the way," she breathed closing her eyes and turning her face away as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Bruce reached out, gently cupping her chin in his hand and turning her head to face him and she blinked up at him with watery eyes, the silver looking even more severe with their glaze. She looked almost as angry as she looked sad.

"We are only human," he whispered and she met his eyes, scanning them as though looking for an answer. All she found were endless depths of dark brown, with a deep sorrow, but also a pure feeling of being misunderstood.

He shouldn't have, he knew he shouldn't have, but her lips were parted ever so slightly, those sad, innocent eyes staring up at him, and she was so damn beautiful. Keeping her face cupped in his hand he leaned down, and let his lips gently brush hers.

Bruce quickly pulled away, blinking down at her, waiting for her reaction which initially was shock. But then she reached up, placing a hand on his cheek and pressing her lips gingerly against his. His heart fluttered in his chest as he let his hands move to her waist, her fingers working into his hair.

They parted suddenly and she blinked up at him, her cheeks red, and Bruce smiled as she smiled down at her feet shyly.

"It's late you should probably, get to sleep," Bruce cleared his throat, running his fingers through her hair which was fine and soft, feeling like silk.

"Yeah," she breathed smiling up at him and he brushed his thumb over her cheek then dropped his hand to his side.

"Good night Bruce," she turned away walking quickly away, leaving Bruce standing alone in the moon light, not quite as poetic as Gwen had looked.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_She stood on the side of the bridge, staring over at him, and he stood on the opposite side, staring down at the black water. It was raining, cold December rain that pelted down and stung her skin. She turned and he stepped up onto the railing, one hand resting loosely on the lamp post. His black hair like hers hung loose and stringy in his face. She called his name but he didn't answer. She ran towards him, but her feet felt heavy and slow. He turned back, his black eyes dripping red, his mouth opened and more red dripping down his chin, turning black as it dripped down his neck. She reached out her fingers brushing his sweater, but he slid away before she could grab him. She screamed but it was drowned out as he fell. As he hit the water._

Gwen gasped, bolting upright and panting as she looked around her now light room, sighing and dropping back onto her pillow as she realized she had been dreaming. She had the dream often; it haunted her like a ghost. She could still feel it, that horrible drop in her gut, the tightness in her chest as she felt the fabric of his clothes, but just for an instant, like one might see a passing shadow, and then he was gone, gone forever, gone into the angry, cold, black water.

She rolled over pressing her face into the pillow for an instant then sat up and slid out of bed, climbing into a pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt, brushing out her hair and walking down the hallway. Bruce sat with Tony and Clint, all of them talking quietly to one another and she felt her face heat up.

It hit her like a brick wall, his hands on her hips, the feeling of need after he had kissed her, to touch him, to be touched. She knew she shouldn't have let herself feel that, shouldn't let herself get close to him, but it had been a moment of weakness.

"Gwen, Clint was just letting us know what he had found out about you're…" Bruce started then trailed off trying to think of the right word.

"Captor," Tony finished and Bruce shot him a quick look but he just shrugged and looked over at Gwen like one might look at a stranger.

"He meets with five men every other day in an old warehouse," Clint said as she sat down beside Bruce, "Loki, Natasha, and I plan to confront one of them, bring them back here for questioning."

"It has to be him, the Scottish man, he has to be the one questioned," Gwen said suddenly and they all turned to frown at her.

"Why?" Clint asked and she could feel Tony and Bruce wondering the same thing.

"Because he was the one who tortured me, he knows the information the man he works for wants, you just have to get him to give it to you," Gwen stated, and Bruce was surprised by how steady she sounded, though her reasoning did make sense.

"The Scottish man… scar face?" Clint asked and she nodded and Clint stood pushing his chair swiftly under the table and for some reason she found the action odd.

"I'll let Fury know," Clint was off then, disappearing quickly, which Gwen noticed he had a way of doing and Tony cleared his throat.

"Well, I think I'll go see what Pepper's up to," Tony said then winked quickly at Bruce and then hurried out of the room and Bruce rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"You and Tony are pretty close?" She turned to look at him, resting her chin on the heel of her hand as she scanned over his face.

"We both have scientific minds. We both admire each other for our work, we get along. I suppose you could say we're pals," Bruce smiled over at her and she smiled back.

"How'd you sleep?" She asked and a slight blush crept over his cheeks and he scratched under his ear shyly.

"Great and you?" Bruce mimicked her posture, resting his chin on the heel of his hand and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she lied, but she had gotten pretty good at lying, she had grown up lying, lived her whole life lying. One could safely say her whole life was a lie.

"Good," he smiled leaning back and sighing up at the ceiling, "I… I don't want to pry but what was it you were so upset about last night?"

She sucked in her breath and her face went pale, her eyes going down to the table, fixing on the reflection of the light off the shiny white surface. She bit hard on her bottom lip, bit until she could feel the skin start to split then released, exhaling deeply through her nose. She considered lying, lying was first nature but she second guessed it, it didn't seem right to lie now. Gwen didn't want to lie to him, if she lied that meant she was making him an inconstant variable in her life, just like everyone else. Maybe if she finally told someone the truth, they wouldn't just disappear.

"I was just thinking… about my brother," she whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note: Yes, I actually do know how to speak German and I wanted to incorporate it into a story :]**

"I want to question him," Gwen stated as Natasha went for the door and they all turned to the raven haired girl in surprise.

"Gwen I don't know-" Natasha started but Gwen cut her off moving over to her and placing a firm hand on the doorknob and her other on Natasha's shoulder.

Gwen walked inside the interrogation room and the man looked up in surprise a slow smile spreading across his face. She looked oddly cold, Bruce thought, her long hair pulled back into a tight pony-tail, accenting her sharp features, her silver eyes like ice as they bore into the man, the heels of her shoes clicking as she walked back and forth, her gaze never leaving the man.

"Sie sehen besonders schöne heute Gwen," The man said and Gwen gave a sarcastic kind of flirty grin, the hardness of her eyes making the man's smirk waver.

"Vergeuden Sie nicht Ihren Atem," she spat and the man's smirk turned to a full out grin as he leaned back in his chair.

"What language is that?" Bruce asked turning to Natasha who was nearly gaping at Gwen as she spoke the foreign language fluently.

"German I'm fairly sure, not my best language," Natasha ruefully admitted and Bruce wasn't sure if he should be suspicious or impressed.

"Wer du arbeite für? Warum brauchen Sie Bruce-Forschung?" Gwen asked the words rolling quickly from her tongue and Bruce was surprised for the noises she was making didn't exist in English.

The man laughed and Gwen leaned over the table and the man's eyes went wide as she leaned so close she could have kissed him.

"Who are you working for?" She hissed and the man blinked and then started to laugh again, and something in Gwen snapped. Bruce saw it in her icy eyes as they were set ablaze, in the set of her jaw, the ridged posture of her body.

She lashed out, wrapping her hand around the man's throat and he blinked up at her as he met her eyes without seeming to be able to control it. He let out a small choking sound and Bruce watched in horror as the veins in the man's face began to bulge, pushing up against his skin as though about to burst through, turning black where the veins pressed against the flesh. He went to move but seemed unable to, his eyes bulging as he gaped desperately up at Gwen.

Her eyes had gone dark, her pupils dilated so wide that the pale silver of her irises couldn't be seen, her lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl, every inch of her tense. Blood pooled around where her nails dug into his neck, and his veins continued to push forward, hard and dark against his skin until it looked almost comic and Bruce felt dizzy.

Suddenly it stopped, she stumbled away, her eyes going back to normal her face going slack as she stared down at her bloodied hand as the man collapsed from his chair belting out a scream he had been unable to let out, his hands going over his face. She quickly regained her composure, dropping down to her knees beside him as he rolled onto his back, panting as his face returned to normal.

"Tell me who you're working for," she breathed, spitting the words through her teeth but the shear harshness had faded and now she was simply trying to hold herself together.

"He wanted me to pass on a message, stay pure Gwen," the man breathed and the words seemed to strike a chord as her jaw dropped and her eyes went wide.

"No," she breathed faltering back as the man's mouth began to foam, his body convulsing briefly before his eyes glazed over and he went slack, "no!"

"Gwen!" Bruce wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her against his chest as she leapt for the Scottish man.

"No," she breathed looking down at her hands, blood caked under her fingernails and her eyes welled with tears.

"What the hell was that? What did you do to him?" Natasha asked sharply, and Gwen shook her head, staring down at him.

"I think… now would be a good time to tell you about my brother," she whispered and Bruce and Natasha glanced back at each other.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Gwen handed a picture of herself and a man, her brother standing side by side to Bruce. They looked eerily alike, the only difference was their eyes, where Gwen's were all silvery and light, his were pitch black, and oddly frightening.

"My brother and I were twins," she said slowly, glancing around then as they all sat around her, Natasha, Clint, Thor, Tony, Loki, and Bruce dutifully by her side, "we realized we had these strange abilities when we were young. I healed fast, and could heal others and when he touched people; he could do what I did back there. I didn't know I could do that until then though. As he got older he wasn't able to control it, and he killed someone. He always told me we were opposites, light and dark, happy, and sad, innocent and corrupt. It was a nasty ability; it expanded the person's veins, and caused them to burst, then dragged out their blood through their pores until their heart burst. I watched him do it, it was gory, and terrifying, something from a horror movie. He said he couldn't take it, not being able to touch anyone, killing the people he cared about most. So, the day before his trial… he jumped off a bridge and killed himself."

They all stared at her but she was staring at her hands, folding and opening them again, swallowing hard as she looked up.

"I would have told you before but I didn't think it mattered," She breathed and she felt a strong hand on her shoulder, and turned to find Bruce smiling consolingly over at her.

"Ladies, gentlemen," Fury marched into the room his one eye trained sternly on Gwen, "we just received a message for Miss Terran."


	7. Chapter 7

"_Gwen, I hope they will show you this message. It has recently come to my attention that you believe your brother dead, but his body never was found was it? You see I have information on your dear brother you may find valuable. But you'll have to come to me I'm afraid; I think you'll know the place. The house of mirrors I believe you called it, poetic for an eight year old. But, you must come alone, you see, the information I have must be kept private. I do hope to see you again Gwen."_

Gwen frowned as she read over the letter and frowned up at Fury who was looking up at her expectantly along with everyone else. She stared down at the piece of paper as if it was made of acid, but she couldn't let it go. She had been told her brothers body hadn't been found, but he never showed up, he just disappeared, so they had assumed he was dead. But now, this piece of paper these few words, tore everything apart.

"What is the house of mirrors?" Fury finally asked and Gwen crumpled the paper in her hands and Fury raised an eyebrow.

"It's an old studio where my mother used to work," she answered tossing the paper over to Fury who snatched it out of the air.

"I'm going," she said sternly and felt Bruce's hand on her shoulder but she kept her eyes trained hard on Fury.

"That's really not a wise decision Gwen," Fury crossed his arms and she shook her head firmly looking down.

"My brother's body never was found, if they have information … I'm going, I have to find out," she breathed.

"Gwen this is clearly a trap you can't just go, we have to think about this, be rational," Bruce said and she wheeled around.

"I have been this whole time! Do know what this is like for me? First my brother kills himself, then I'm captured and tortured because of _you, _and now who ever this is, is claiming to have information about Clay, I can't just ignore it," she shouted, jabbing a finger at Bruce's chest and he blinked, a look of surprise then hurt crossing his face.

She bit her tongue, and wished she could take it back but she couldn't now and she turned marching out of the room. She nearly ran down the hall, and slammed the door behind her, dropping onto her bed and staring up at the ceiling. Gwen pressed the heels of her hands hard against her eyes, biting down on her lower lip.

She sat up suddenly, staring at her reflection in her mirror as suddenly she got an idea.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Loki frowned as there was a knock on his door and he swung it open raising his eyebrows as he looked down.

"I need your help," Gwen said curtly her silver eyes sharp and intense, trained up on his with an unwavering fierceness.

"What exactly did you have in mind?" Loki grinned.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Gwen?" Bruce pushed open her door and saw her sitting on the edge of her bed reading a book and Bruce walked over sitting beside her.

"Look I understand you're upset right now, but please just talk to me," he breathed and she glanced over at him then turned away.

"Gwen please, if I could take everything that happened back I would, if I could give you back your brother I would but I can't," Bruce sighed placing a hand on her shoulder, "I just can't stand you being mad at me."

She closed her book and turned to him slowly, her eyes guarded and she glanced down at his hand on her shoulder. She shrugged him off and stood, walking away, crossing her arms with her back to him. Bruce stood walking over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him. She kept her eyes down, her lips pressed into a hard line.

"Please look at me," he breathed and she glanced up, meeting his eyes and he reached out, cupping her face in his hands and a slightly flicker of what might have been panic crossed her face.

Bruce leaned down to kiss her and frowned as she pressed her fingers to his lips, pushing him away, having had gone rather green.

He opened his mouth to speak and then stopped feeling rather sick himself as it was no longer Gwen standing before him but Loki towering over him.

"She went?" Bruce choked his eyes going wide as he stumbled back and Loki nodded. Bruce turned away, sprinting down the hall.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Gwen stood in front of the studio, a black hood pulled up over her head and she took a deep breath, shoving her hands into her pockets and pushing the door open. The studio was dark other than the moon light shining in through the window and she pulled down her hood, stopping in front of a fogged glass door. She pushed it open, walking into the center of a circle of mirrors.

"I'm so glad you could come Gwen," his voice echoed from around the room, making it impossible to tell where it was coming from.

"You see, it would appear your brother didn't day the day he jumped off the bridge," the man said and she gasped as suddenly someone was standing behind her and she wheeled around only to find they were gone, "he was reborn. Recreated into something better, he learned that his power didn't make him a monster, they made him strong."

Gwen found herself spinning, disoriented by the spinning mirrors, swearing one moment there was a man standing behind her and then next there wasn't. She stopped closing her eyes and placing a hand on her stomach as she began to feel nauseous.

"Where is Clay?" She asked opening her eyes and then froze her eyes going wide as she stumbled back into a mirror.

A man stood in front of her, his face hidden except for his scarred mouth that grinned wickedly down at her. He was dressed in black from head to toe, even his hands were gloved.

"Waiting for you," he breathed and she gasped as a sharp pain filled her head, her vision going white, and everything faded, the mans wicked laugh echoing in her ears.


	8. Chapter 8

**This has taken forever! It's been pretty busy lately, working at Howl-O-Scream which is quite awesome, and for those who live near a Busch Gardens you should definitely go. **

**P.S. No I'm not into incest, I use it to show how desperate and sick her brother is, I'm sorry if it bothers you, but that's kind of the point. Anyway, please let me know what you think, and leave a review!**

Gwen blinked blearily, scowling as rope dug into her wrist as she tried to move, cold metal pressing into her back. Her ankles were bound as well, her jacket had been discarded and she could see it lying in a heap on the ground. She was in a big, gray room with dim yellow lighting, tied to a cold steel chair. She sucked in her breath as the man dressed in black appeared, his pale, sharp jaw sticking out almost comically from beneath his black hood. His thin lips were twisted in to a grin, the scars lining his lips a pale sort of purple color.

"Well good morning sleeping beauty," his voice echoed off the walls, seeming to come from everywhere, and his voice sounded like shattering glass, but there was something familiar to it, something she couldn't quite place.

"Where am I?" She asked, watching his jaw shift, sliding loosely back and forth, the way a snakes might and she felt her stomach turn.

"Nowhere special," he shrugged taking another step closer, pulling his gloves off his hands and she wished he hadn't. His hands were like his mouth, pale with purple scars, his fingers abnormally long and boney, curling and flexing with loud cracks, the tendons shifting restlessly in the top of his hand and Gwen had to fight back to urge to gag.

"Where's Clay, what did you do to him?" He chuckled, a horrible cackling sound that turned her skin to goose-flesh.

"Clay," he spat the name, as if it were poison, his lips turning down, baring his fang like teeth, "is no more. I saved him you see, made him understand that his power, is a _gift_. To be able to control ones fate, simply by reaching out, and touching them."

Gwen held her breath as he reached out, his cold hand latching onto her jaw, his sharp fingers digging into her jaw and she winced, his teeth bared in a snarl, leaning down so she could see the gleam of what she guessed to be his eyes beneath his hood.

"Everyone's except yours that is," his breath was like icy air across her face, and she could already feel bruises as he released her jaw and stepped back, turning away from her.

He pulled down his hood and Gwen couldn't help but gasp, she had expected him to be bald, his head scarred and ugly like the rest of him but he had glossy black hair that hung just past his shoulders, and his hands flexed again. He turned and Gwen couldn't even gasp, her eyes going wide and damp. His cheekbones stuck out sharply, his cheeks hollow, the rest of his face as pale as his hands, but his face wasn't scarred other than his mouth. She whimpered as she met his eyes, completely black from corner to corner, and they were slightly sad as they looked down at her.

She blinked letting out a shaky breath, a hot tear rolling down her cheek and she barely managed to choke out his name, and it felt as though her heart had turned to stone in her chest, "Clay."

"I no longer go by that name, I told you, Clay is gone," his expression darkened suddenly, any sorrow in his face replaced by anger, "Clay died the day he jumped off that bridge."

Gwen shook her head, closing her eyes and dropping her chin to her chest, trying to breathe as suddenly she grew very cold and dizzy.

"But why… what do you need Bruce's research for?" She tried, clearing her throat so he could actually hear her.

"You've always been so naïve," he sighed turning so she could see his sharp profile, "could you imagine it? My power, mixed with the strength of what the gamma radiation made him, I could be unstoppable."

"Why do you need to be unstoppable? What do you want to destroy?" She was almost yelling, pulling against the ropes that held her.

"Everyone not like us baby sister," he hissed turning back to her, his eyes fiery with fury, "everyone not gifted like we are. No one to judge us, no one to call us freaks!"

"Clay you're not thinking right, you can't kill every human in the world," she shook her head madly, her hair flying about her face as she tried to reason.

"Stop calling me that!" He shouted, lashing out and slapping her hard across the face. She gasped, pain exploding in her cheek as her vision went white, and the taste of blood filled her mouth.

"My informant told me Bruce has grown rather fond of you," he hissed, his fingers latching onto her jaw again and she winced, "people always love you. You just bat your pretty little lashes and they think you're wonderful, I looked at them and they called me a freak," his face softened suddenly becoming weary, "has he touched you? Hurt you?"

She bit her lip, he hadn't. They had kissed briefly, but that had been it, nothing more had come out of it, and after what she did to the Irish man she wouldn't doubt touching her would be the last thing Bruce wanted to do.

"That's none of your business," she closed her eyes since she could turn her face away from him and tried her best to maintain a poker-face.

"He has," Clay bristled, his grip tightening on her jaw and she let out a small cry, she could feel her body trying to heal itself, could feel her blood pulsing beneath his fingers because it couldn't, and her eyes wend wide. Clay's ability did work on her the way it did everyone else, but that didn't mean it didn't affect her.

"Clay!" She choked as his nails dug into her skin, she gasped as she felt the skin split with a sickening tear, hot blood pouring down her face.

He quickly let her go stumbling away but he scowled as she didn't heal, blood pouring continuously down her face, with dark purple bruises around the angry red. And for the first time she realized she could still taste blood, she thought it had just lingered, but her lip was still busted.

"I-I can't heal when you hurt me," she breathed speaking more to herself than him but his eyes widened and his jaw locked.

Gwen knew she wasn't hurt badly but she wasn't used to bleeding, at least not this long, and it just kept flowing. Like Bruce had said, her body didn't form a scab when she bled, it just healed over, but what happened if her body couldn't do that?

"What the hell do you mean you can't heal!" He snapped suddenly and she flinched away from him as he leaned down close to her.

"You've never hurt me before so it would make sense I didn't know! But you're power… it keeps me from healing I think," she whimpered and he straightened suddenly.

"I thought…" his closed his eyes, "you were the only one I could touch without hurting. Do you know what that's like, not to be able to touch _anyone_? To be alone like that," he seemed to be having trouble breathing, "every time I kissed a girl she ended up dead, touched a girl… except you. _My sister_."

He laughed harshly, running a hand through his hair and pulling it rather roughly, shaking his head, "if there is a God he is cruel."

"Cl- … please untie me, I won't try to run, or fight," She dropped her voice almost to a whisper looking up at him, "please."

He frowned but stepped forward, untying her hands and feet and taking a few steps away from her as she stood. She rolled her wrists as she felt them begin to heal and then looked up at her brother, reaching up and cupping his face in her hands.

"Clay," she whispered her eyes watering and she reached up, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, pressing her face into his shoulder, gripping his shirt desperately, her voice broke as she whispered, "I thought I lost you, do you know what that was like for me? To feel you slip through my fingers, I watched you fall. Then they said they couldn't find your body and I couldn't think, I slipped, into the same state I did when Evan left for the military. I haven't heard from him in five years and I felt so lost Clay… you, and Evan, no explanation, to _know_ you were dead would have been better but I didn't know. You were just gone, and I was so _alone_."

She was crying now, her small frame trembling and he slowly wrapped his arms around her and it felt good to hold her. He had held her like this when their dad had died, when their mom had died, when Evan had left, it felt familiar; it felt like _home_ to hold her. She was smaller than she normally was though, a little to lean, to bony.

"Gwen," he breathed his arms tightening around her, pressing his face into her hair, he could feel her heart beating against his, and she smelled of vanilla, and white orchids, and pure, white things.

Gwen heard noise outside and knew what it was, knew it was them, heard Clint shout something, and Thor bellow back.

"You have to go Clay," she pulled away so she could look at him running her fingers through his hair, "Clay."

But he didn't move. He blinked at her red rimmed eyes that made her silver irises all the more stunning, her red swollen lips, her flushed cheeks, her dark lashes formed to star-like points from her tears. Two angry red curves lined in deep purple graced the left side of her jaw, only one on the right, her busted bottom lip still bleeding. Her blood wasn't like most peoples, thick and garnet red, hers was thin, watery, the color of candied cherries and it made him wonder.

She gasped in shock as he leaned forward, his hot tongue creating a trail from her collar bone to her bottom lip, lapping up the blood. Her blood was still metallic, but instead of being salty and bitter it was sweet, and she made a choked sound as he ran his tongue over her bottom lip.

"So long since I've touched anyone… you thought you were alone?" he hissed against her cheek, his grip tightening on her, "you have no idea what alone is."

She was overwhelmed with the urge to vomit, her head going fuzzy, her body going cold as he smashed his mouth against hers. Gwen squeezed her eyes shut; she could feel the scars on his lips as they pressed painfully against hers. She tried to get free but she couldn't, her arms still trapped around his neck, so she pulled roughly on his hair.

"Stop!" She screeched against his lips, she heard the door open, felt a wave of shame and nausea wash over her, felt her eyes sting with tears as his fingers slithered under her shirt and up her back, "_Clayton!_"

He pulled away suddenly and she blinked wide eyed, horrified up at him. The look was lost, twisted into pain as she screamed, arching into him as he raked his nails down her back, tearing into her slowly "you can't heal if I hurt you huh?"

She let out another scream. It was a horrible, blood-curdling scream that made you want to cover your ears and cry, as he leaned down. He bit her neck and he groaned as her blood exploded into his mouth, the sweet taste of her on his tongue, the soft feel of her against him, her wonderful scent.

Her knees went weak, collapsing into him, fighting back cries as he relaxed his jaw, lapping and sucking hungrily on her throat, her nails digging into the back of his neck.

Suddenly he was torn away and she fell forward, her hand going to her neck, gasping and trembling her eyes wide as blood dripped through her fingers, splattering the concrete floor. Her stomach twisted as she heard him laugh, and she looked up.

His eyes were wild, his grin wolfish and frightening, blood, her blood coating his teeth, slicking his lips, and running down his chin.

She couldn't take it. There was no gaging, no convulsing, she wretched once, violently, and vomited. She felt hands on her back, holding her hair, brushing her cheek, and she wanted to cry.

"Bruce," she sobbed, but he just pulled off his sweater, and white undershirt, pressing the cotton t-shirt against her bleeding neck, sliding his sweater back on and scooping her into his arms.

"Shh, Gwen it's okay, you're okay now, he won't hurt you," Bruce whispered but she shook her head, choking violently on her sobs.

"That's him, that's _him_," she was hysterical and Bruce wondered how much blood she had lost, why she wasn't healing, he could feel her back, hot and sticky with blood against his arm, "that's Clay, that's my _brother_."

Bruce blinked in terror up at the manic man, laughing harshly as his hands were bound and Tony forced a gag into his mouth, his eyes watering with tears as he laughed even through the gag. Thor hit him hard over the head and the man collapsed, his eyes rolling back and it was suddenly eerily silent and Bruce took a deep uneasy breath. He just shushed Gwen again, gently touching her face, trying not to show his own feeling of disgust.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the views, reviews, favorites, and follows! All comments are appreciated**

"Just wait out here, if I scream…" Gwen took a deep breath, clenching her fists to keep her hands from shaking, "be careful when you come in, don't let him touch you."

Steve gave her a wary look but nodded, watching as she disappeared through the door. Clay glanced up at her, a twisted grin spreading across his face as he saw her.

"Back for more?" He cackled and she closed her eyes, swallowing hard as her throat went dry and she felt sick.

"I want… I need to know why, you did this," she choked, reaching for the silvery, smooth crescent shaped scar on her neck, but it was only part of what she meant.

"I told you…" his eyes darkened suddenly, watching her like injured prey as he moved, "you are, the only one, I can touch."

He had always been faster than her but he was faster now, and she gaped closing her eyes and his breath stirred her hair, and he gently brushed a loose strand from her face.

"I don't mean that," it wasn't completely a lie; "I mean Bruce's research, why would you want to do that to yourself?"

"Do that to myself? You mean turn myself into a monster?" Clay's eyebrows went up and his mouth twisted, "is that how you see dear doctor Banner?"

"N-n-no, of course not," she breathed shaking her head as he moved closer, grinning horribly, "Bruce is a better man than you could ever be."

That wiped that stupid grin clean off his face but there was little time to feel any satisfaction as he lashed out wrapping his hand tight around her throat and she choked. She closed her eyes, wincing as she felt the skin begin to bruise beneath his fingers.

"Clay please," her throat was tight and her voice come out hoarse and cracked, "you're my _brother_, my twin."

"And what does that matter? You'll never love me," his hissed, and she tried to scream but his grip tightened and his lips smashed with bruising force against hers.

His hands were cold, his fingers sharp and bony, and all over her body. His tongue was in her mouth, she could taste him, making her sick, and dizzy. She couldn't scream, he wouldn't let her, and he was too strong to fight off. Clay pushed her onto her knees and she gasped, her vision swimming, but his hand was over her mouth before she could scream, letting out a muffled, frustrated cry. She bit down hard on his hand and he moaned as though he enjoyed it and she retched, her vision going red as hot, thick, metallic blood filled her mouth. She couldn't breathe and her chest was heaving as she struggled to get air through her nose, and her throat ached as if she had swallowed boiling water.

His other hand was on the button of her jeans, undoing the zipper and he was whispering in her ear but she couldn't hear him over the blood pounding in her ear. Her heart was thudding hard against her chest, her pulse racing so fast Clay could see in in her throat and he grinned as he slid his hand into her jeans and she let out a choked, shocked, cry her eyes going watery and wide. She let out another sound, somewhere between a whimper and a scream, falling onto her elbows, closing her eyes as his hand moved between her legs. This was wrong, so, _so_ wrong. He was touching her how no man should touch her without permission, much less her brother, making her feel the way a brother shouldn't.

She wanted to throw up, he was still bleeding in her mouth and she refused to swallow, his blood mixing with her saliva, running down her chin. She wasn't crying, but her eyes had watered enough from pain, and shame, that the tears rolled freely down her cheeks as his body began to move against hers. His hand moved again and she jerked her head away from his hand and screamed, screamed like she had never screamed in her life, screamed so it hurt her irritated throat.

Clay cursed, pushing her to the ground and she let out a cry as the side of her face collided with the ground. Steve was in the room before Clay could get to his feet, lifting him by the back of his shirt, and tossing him across the room. He hit the wall with a sickening thud, landing limp on the ground. Steve turned to her and his fierce expression immediately melted.

She had pushed her self onto her hip and her elbow, shaking violently black blood dripped from the corner of her mouth, down her chin, her cheeks streaked with tears. She was gasping for air between choking sounds that wracked her entire body as if she had been shocked.

He lifted her and hurried out of the room, making sure the door was securely closed. He rushed her down the hall until she startled to squirm in his grip.

"Steve, put me down," she breathed, wincing and grabbing at her throat and he gently set her down, slowly moving his hands away as though afraid she might break.

She gasped, her face twisting in pain and she leaned against the wall, clutching at her lower stomach and doubling over slightly.

"What the hell happened?" Bruce snapped rushing forward and pulling her into him, holding her up and she cringed.

"She went to see Clay," Steve breathed and Bruce closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, gently scooping Gwen into his arms.

"I'm taking you to the lab," Bruce breathed and she shook her head, her eyes closed but she was relieved to be off her feet.

"No, I want to take a shower," she whispered, pulling slightly on his shirt, blinking sleepily up at him, "please Bruce I'm tired, and I feel… _dirty_."

He was silent but nodded curtly, carrying her to her room and helping her to the bathroom. He helped her sit on the edge of the tub as he turned the water on.

"Call me if you… need help," he breathed, gently touching her face and he sucked in his breath as she looked at him, nodding slowly.

He quickly rushed from the bathroom, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes as he tried to push the image of her from his head. She always looked melancholy, but there was always innocence. But just then, she had looked broken, sick, pale, defeated, vacant, _empty_.

Gwen quickly stripped, her head swimming as she tried to ignore the blood down the inside of her legs, sitting on the ground under the shower of scorching water, scrubbing her skin until it was red raw and stung and then she scrubbed some more. But it didn't get rid of the feeling of Clay's fingers on her, _in _her. She would have thrown up if there was anything in her stomach. She curled in on herself, closing her eyes, not letting herself think other than the water drip, dropping against her skin, and down her face.

And suddenly she was thirteen again, dancing in the hot May rain with her sister, laughing and squealing as they kicked and jumped in puddles of water, splashing each other mercilessly and giggling all the while. And then she fifteen, running in the warm July rain, her hair wet and wild, her eyes stinging with tears, her clothes clinging to her as she ran far away. Then she was eighteen, in the frigid December rain, screaming as Clay slipped through her fingers, watching as he fell.

Suddenly the rain stopped and she blinked scowling as she felt soft, warmth wrap around her, strong arms holding her together and she blinked up at a very worried pair of brown eyes. She must have fallen asleep, drops of water still dripping down her face from her hair, she must have been dreaming. But she knew the pain was real, the pain, and suddenly his hands were on her again, he was whispering in her ear, making her hurt. She whimpered and pressed her face into Bruce's chest as he shushed her, cooing to her gently, smoothing her hair back out of her face.

He carried her into her room, scowled as he saw her red raw skin on her shoulders, finger tips, hips, and lower back. But his gaze was never rude, never invasive as she sat naked before him, just worried. He dressed her and gently towel dried her hair, and laid her head in his lap as he brushed out her damp tangles. She closed her eyes, letting out a small sigh as he gently tugged on her hair, running through it with a brush and then following with his fingers. When he was touching her she didn't feel Clay, didn't smell him, didn't hear him.

Instead she felt warm, calloused, gentle hands, touching her like she were made of paper and glass, smelled spearmint, pine musk, fabric softener, and sandalwood, and his voice was low, and warm, and lulling in her ear, filling her head like a sort of buzzing white noise as he whispered to her, pulling her away from the darkness.

"Don't leave me," she murmured, too tired to even whisper, to open her eyes and look at him as she said it, "Don't let go of me."

"I could never let you go," he whispered, his voice far away as though underwater, his lips gently brushing her forehead, and with his infectious warmth, and security, she was lulled into sleep.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Bruce woke to a horrible screaming, a scream coming from the throat of someone who had swallowed glass but didn't know what else to do but scream. He leapt up and raced down the hall, throwing open Gwen's door as she thrashed about in her bed, screaming and writhing as if she was possessed.

"Gwen! Gwen," he rushed to her side, grasping her face between his hands, straddling her body to hold her still.

She gasped raggedly through her bruised throat, shaking violently, drenched in a cold sweat and Bruce gently pushed her hair out of her face as she blinked up at him with unseeing eyes, still floundering a bit before they focused and she fell still.

"Bruce," she croaked, her voice broken but the overwhelming sound of relief was still heard and he nodded pressing his forehead lightly against hers and closing his eyes as their breaths brushed each other's faces.

"Good God Gwen…" he breathed, pressing his lips gently against her forehead, her eyebrows, her eyelids, her cheeks, her jaw, a gentle consoling kiss on her lips.

She reached up wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into her with surprising force, her fingers twining into his hair, her breath brushing his face as she panted.

"You _can't_ leave me Bruce, you can't," it hurt to talk but she couldn't stop it as she began to sob into his neck, "I need you."

"Gwen," he breathed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her up into his lap, holding her tight against his chest, stroking her hair, "I won't, I won't let anyone hurt you Gwen."

He finally calmed her down and lay down beside her, holding her against him as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.

"You're kind of like," she seemed to struggle for the words as she traced patterns on his chest, "morphine."

"Morphine?" He dragged out the word, his fingers running languidly through her hair and over her back as they lay together.

"When you're with me," she sounded like she had screamed too much and now her voice was hoarse, and crackling, deeper than it usually was, "the pain goes away."

"But it comes back when the morphine wears off," he whispers, tracing the finger shaped bruises on her neck that still hadn't healed, "I wish I could make it stop for good."

"You can," she breathed, her big eyes scanning his face before she pressed her face into his chest, "Just don't leave me."

"I think I can manage that," he whispered, gently kissing her on the nose, which earned him a soft smile as she curled into him.

She closed her eyes as he rubbed circles on her back, and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**It's been so long since I've updated anything it's so busy! Sorry everybody, please leave a review and tell me what you think!**

It had been a couple days since the incident and Bruce didn't even bother trying to sleep in his own room anymore. But her night terrors were starting to take a toll on him, he was always tired, making mistakes in the lab with Tony, little mistakes granted, but slip ups that shouldn't be made.

She'd left him asleep in her room, wondered off to find Steve she had talked to him since everything had happened but she needed to, it was a little thing that kept eating away at her.

He was in the gym as usual, showing the punching bag who was boss and she stopped a few feet behind him, "that punching bag takes a lot of crap from you, you might want to be careful, might come back and get you someday."

He turned blinking at her, his hair darkened and damped with sweat, his shoulders heaving as he panted but his posture slackened as he saw her.

"You think?" He breathed giving a gentle smile that quickly melted into a more solemn expression, "how are you?"

He could see she hadn't eaten much, her eyes looking to big, her cheekbones to exaggerated in her lean face, her clothes hanging too loose on her frame, dark circles under her eyes from little sleep, but that was only physical that could be fixed, even by force if it came to it. Her emotional health… couldn't.

"I'm alright," she breathed, "and I mean it when I say I'm alright Steve, you know it's not your fault this happened right?"

"Isn't it though? I should have known, done something, when it got quiet, I should have known," he shook his head.

"Steve," she ignored that face he was sweaty, it honestly didn't bother her much, as long as he didn't smell which he didn't, placing her hand on his cheek, "it's no one's fault but his, there's no way you could have known, and you definitely shouldn't have known. If anyone should have seen it coming it was me."

"If I didn't know any better," Steve started his eyes scanning her face as he spoke, "I'd think you were from a different time too."

"If I didn't know any better," she smiled, moving her hand and punching him playfully in the chest, "I would too."

He chuckled softly and she smiled, feeling better with knowing he had been put at peace, knowing it wasn't his fault.

"You're a good kid," he smiled, ruffling her hair and she giggled, blinking up at him through her now wild hair and he chuckled.

"I try Steve," she tamed her hair quickly with her fingers, nodding to the punching bag, "now you be careful, I'm telling you, it's starting to look angry."

"Get out of here," he grinned and she smiled back, turning and leaving him to himself, going to see if she could find Tony.

He was in the lab, where she thought he would be, working on some equipment for his suit no doubt, frowning at a bunch of numbers on his computer.

"You know I'm kind of jealous," Tony said looking up at her and taking a drink of, scotch? "You stole my science partner."

"You know you're pretty smart, have you looked into cloning?" She walked over to him, sitting down on the counter across from him.

"When was the last time you've eaten?" He asked his big brown eyes genuinely worried and she sighed, chewing her lip.

"I don't know, when did you apprehend Clay?" She asked and he stood walking over to her lifting her chin so he could look at her face.

"A week ago," he scowled already knowing where it was going and he sighed lowering his hand, "you can't do this to yourself. Besides Bruce can't take it. If you start falling apart he'll be right there with you."

"I know," she sighed, "he's already up with me all night long, and he's so worried, he won't just relax and let me try to work things out with myself. I mean… I love him, and him being there for me is more than I would ask for, but I don't want this to affect him the way it has."

"You're what, eighteen? I swear you're way more mature than most women in their twenties or at least you actually care more about other people than yourself. Also rare," Tony stated.

"I'm twenty-two Tony," she raised her eyebrows in amusement as he frowned at her, pretending to count on his fingers and she laughed.

"Well look at that, you've got a young face," Tony grinned, patting her knee in a paternal kind of way, "you should go eat something, but try something small first? An apple or some toast? For Bruce if not for yourself."

"For Bruce what?" They both turned to the still sleep eyed doctor in the doorway, his graying brown waves slightly disheveled from sleep.

"I was just about to go get some breakfast," Gwen hopped down from the counter, glancing over at Tony who nodded, going back to his computer, "would you care to join me?"

"Or course," he smiled letting her lead him down the hall, her hand in his. She watched as he scratched at his now stubble covered chin, yawning.

"Hey now scruffy," she reached up running her fingers across his jaw, the coarse stubble tickling her fingers.

He chuckled taking her hand and trapping it in his, smiling down at her, "I know, I look like a bum with a beard."

"An attractive bum," she smiled and he shook his head looking down at her and sighing, his smile slightly faltering.

"Why me," he breathed and she stopped blinking up at him, "why me, why not Steve or Clint? You could probably even get Thor wrapped around your finger."

"Because you're… you," she frowned, "I don't know. You're so gentle, and compassionate despite how hard you are on yourself, and your sweet, and charming, not to mention handsome."

"You're something else," he smiled wrapping his arm around her shoulders and she smiled leaning into him as they walked down the hall.

She froze her breath hitching in her throat as she saw Fury speaking to someone, but it wasn't Fury, it was the someone.

He was taller than she remembered him being, his raven hair grown out so that it was styled messy and gelled up, his shoulders broader than they were seven years ago, his gray eyes more mature, more wary, more solemn, but it was him, the same man he had been seven years ago.

She felt Bruce's grip tighten on her arm as her eyes welled with tears her hand going over her mouth as she made a small sound.

Fury turned to look at her and so did he, his gray eyes going wide, shock registered first across his face, then relief, then worry, and then joy, splitting his face in a Cheshire grin, his own eyes watering.

"Gwen," he breathed hurrying over to her and pulling her into him, holding her tight against him and she held him tight, afraid he might turn into smoke, he might disappear, crying tears of joy, of relief, of seven years of is he or isn't he lifted off her shoulders as he held her.

"Look at you," he smiled cupping her face in his hands, "all grown up, you look just like mom," he whispered.

"Evan… what, why are you here?" She asked wiping her face and rubbing her eyes dry, gripping at his shoulders.

"I was on leave when Director Fury contacted me, said you and Clay were here, said Clay was in trouble," Evan frowned.

"He's trying to replicate Bruce's gamma research, so he's being held here," she nodded and Evan blinked glancing passed her at Bruce then looking back down at her.

"Bruce," she pulled away from Evan taking Bruce's hand and leaning against him, "This is my big brother Evan, Evan this is Doctor Bruce Banner."

"I see, you… the… Harlem?" Evan stammered, scratching behind his ear like he did when he was nervous, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, that was me," Bruce glanced over at Gwen who could only smile, giving his hand a gentle squeeze and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"So you two…" Evan sighed, pinching his lower lip between his thumb and index finger, a habit he had created to stop himself from saying something he more than likely shouldn't.

"I guess you could say we're together, though he's yet to take me on a normal date," she smiled over at Bruce and he grinned back.

"I think… we have some serious catching up to do," Evan breathed running a hand through his hair and Bruce turned to Gwen who only chuckled.


	11. Chapter 11

**My computer has been broken for the past three months and I've been stranded D: but it's fixed now, and I can write again! So please leave a review, comment, critique, all notes are appreciated.**

They all sat in one room, seated around a round silver table, and all eyes were on Gwen. She didn't look at anyone, just stared down at her hands, chewing on her bottom lip as Bruce scratched at his jaw.

"I don't understand," she finally managed, her eyes finally scanning around the table before they landed on Fury.

"I don't see what's so hard to understand, Clay has escaped, Gwen he's dangerous I see no other alternative than to-"

"Kill him," Gwen finished for him, the words soft and casual, her expression guarded and distant as she brushed her hair out of her face, "I know."

"I won't do it, I won't get close to him," her hand went up to her throat and she gave Fury a cold stare, "not again."

"Well none of us can get close to him, how do we kill someone we can't touch?"

"You don't _touch_ him," she didn't shout, she didn't sound angry, but her voice was so sharp it stung, "Clint could shoot him, Natasha could shoot him, Thor could use his hammer, Loki could you magic, I'm seeing endless opportunities that don't require touching him _Director_."

She left the room without even a look of remorse, her bare feet silent as she strode from the room, leaving everyone else to stare at each other in silent shock.

Bruce was the next to stand, following quickly after her, finding her in her room, twisting the ends of her hair, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth and she looked up at him with glassy eyes.

"Gwen," it had become as familiar as a breathe, her name on his lips, and saying it seemed to pull him towards her, kneeling in front of her and taking her face in his hands as she closed her eyes, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

"I can't face him again," she whispered, shaking her head as Bruce wiped away the tear from her cheek, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Don't," he breathed, meeting her pale eyes as they finally opened, "we'll find a way to stop him, we'll fix this."

She reached out, running her fingers across his cheek, and through his hair, cupping her hand around the back of his neck and leaned down, her lips meeting his with a force that made his heart flutter.

He pulled her down from the edge of the bed, into his lap, his arms going around her to pull her close, and her fingers tangled in his hair as he met her hungry kisses.

He trailed his lips down her throat, and she sighed as he nipped at her collar bone, her arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders to pull him closer as her heart hammered against her ribs.

She pressed her lips fervently against his, as her body moved against his. She felt the overwhelming need to be closer to him, but she couldn't get any closer than she already was, and it wasn't close enough.

She tugged at his shirt as her hips moved against his, it caused a light fluttering in her gut that made her moan and Bruce released a shaky breathe and she pulled his shirt over his head, his hand going to her hips.

He groaned and she gasped as she pressed her hips against his, his lips colliding with hers before his tongue pressed against hers, pushing against the roof of her mouth.

"Bruce," it was just a breathe, but it was begging, pleading, desperate as she pulled at his hair, biting her bottom lip as his grip tightened on her thighs.

And he was more than happy to oblige.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Clay scowled at the woman before him, her brown eyes wide, her blonde hair tangled and wild, her hands shaking as she knelt before him.

"Who is she?" Clay asked, glancing to the man who stood beside her. He was a brutish man with red hair and black eyes, and the scar across his mouth twisted his face into a permanent smirk.

"She worked at the university with Banner, she helped him with the gamma … stuff," he might be strong but he was dull, and slow witted, but he got the job done.

"Can you do to me what you helped Bruce do?" He stood from the steps where he sat and crossed the room in a few swift strides, bending down so he could meet her eyes.

They were full of fear, of horror, all he ever saw when people looked at him, no love, no sympathy, just hate.

"Dr. Banner turned himself into a monster, he should have died, you wouldn't survive the-" the jumpy words died in her throat as he grabbed her jaw, he could feel the warmth of her skin through the leather of his glove.

"You didn't answer my question, can you replicate his experiment?" He spat and she flinched, closing her eyes as she trembled, and he moved his hand so she could answer.

"No," she breathed, opening her eyes to look up at him, "no one but Dr. Banner could replicate the experiment."

Clay sighed, "What is your name?" He asked as he pulled of his gloves, tucking them into his pocket as he flexed and stretched his fingers.

"Amelia," she answered slowly hesitantly, her eyes watching his scarred, bony fingers and her mouth went dry as Clay turned back to her.

"Amelia, you should know that I truly am sorry," he breathed, his dark hair falling in his face as he looked down at his hands, "but you see, I have no need of you."

He placed his hands on either side of her face, a gesture one might mistake for one of affection. She opened her mouth to speak but the words never came as her veins went black, pushing against her skin, black blood dripping from her ears, her nose, running from her eyes as she stared at him, her mouth open in a silent scream.

"And I am not one for mercy," his hissed as she began to tremble, her body convulsing violently in his grip as the black blood ran from her pores like sweat, and he smile at her before she drew her last breathe, her body going limp in his hands, the life leaving her eyes.

He let her go and she fell to the ground with a heavy thud, he stared down at her with a twisted look of pity on his face.

"Clean this up," Clay ordered the red headed man, pushing the girl onto her back with the toe of his shoe, looking down at her eyes, black from corner to corner, "I have a call to make."


	12. Chapter 12

**So I'm not sure how many more chapters I'm going to be able to get out, the plot is coming to an end. But I have to thank everyone who's stuck with it, I hope you guys have enjoyed it! All your reviews, follows, and favorites mean a lot ^.^**

Gwen dried her hair as she walked from the bathroom, smiling as she looked down at Bruce, still asleep, snoring softly. She dropped her towel and crawled onto the bed, placing a gently kiss on his forehead before brushing her lips against his.

He blinked sleepily up at her then smiled, tucking her damp hair behind her ear, "hi," it was a breath, with the slightest tone of disbelief.

She laughed softly and shook her head, "hi," she whispered back, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips and smiled as his hand moved to the back of her neck, pulling her in closer.

"Bruce," she smiled grabbing his wrist as his fingers moved under her shirt, "I just took a shower."

"So, you can take another one," he smiled and she laughed as he gently ran his fingers over her cheekbones.

"I don't _need_ to take another one," she smiled moving to the edge of the bed and picking up her towel, "you, however, do."

He gave her a pouty look and she threw her towel at him, standing up and walking over to her mirror, picking up her brush.

"You're no fun," he sighed in defeat but pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed, glancing over at her as she brushed her hair.

"Oh I know, I _live_ to be a killjoy," she smiled and rolled her eyes, gasping as he wrapped his arms around her from behind pressing his lips to her ear.

"Are you sure you don't want to take another shower?" She shivered as he whispered, giggling as he placed a loud kiss against her ear.

She turned around and pulled him down to her, placing a long, slow kiss against his lips and then pulled away.

"Go take a shower Bruce," she smiled and he sighed but smiled back, wrapping her towel around his shoulders and walking to the bathroom.

"You're missing out!" He called as he shut the door and she couldn't help but laugh.

She stood, moving over to the bedroom door as there was a knock and opened it, feeling the heat rush to her face as she looked up at him.

"Hey Evan."

"Hey, Fury wants you and Bruce, have you seen him?" She could see it in his face, the dread of the coming answer.

"Yeah, he's in the shower, we'll head down as soon as he's out," Gwen could feel her palms sweating and rubbed them on her jeans.

"Great…" he gave her a weird look, it was a mixture of confusion, love, and dubiousness, "are you ever going to tell me what Clay did?"

"I did, he had me kidnapped and tortured me for a tie to Bruce so the Avengers would come rescue me, and then tried to use me to get Bruce's research," she went pale as she met his grey eyes, his mouth pressed into a firm line.

"Gwen you know that's not what I mean."

She shook her head, she felt as if someone were pressing on her chest, her head becoming light as it became hard to breath and her limbs went limp, and heavy, her knees going weak beneath her weight and she leaned against the doorway.

"I, Evan… I won't, I can't… I can't think about it, I'm not ready yet," she couldn't look at him, so she kept her eyes closed, trying to breathe.

"What did he do to you that was so awful Gwen?" His tone was growing impatient but it was still worried, "no one will say anything about him, they just get these weird looks on their faces and change the subject."

"You weren't there!" She snapped, finally looking up at him, her eyes going watery as she spoke, "you didn't see it, you can't understand! He's my brother as much as you but he… I thought, I thought I could change him, make him see he was loved but… Do you know how much it hurt, to wake up_ every_ morning, for _seven years_ not knowing if you still have a family left? You weren't _there_, not when Anna left, when mom died, when Clay jumped, when Clay…"

Her voice broke and Evan reached out, pulling her into him as she cried, holding her tight against him, pressing his lips against her hair.

"I'm sorry Gwen, I'm so sorry," he whispered, closing his eyes, "I missed you so much, I wanted to talk to you, to see you. I missed the hardest part of your life and I shouldn't have, I was young and thought I was doing the best thing for you… Gwen I love you so much, I just need you to know that, and I _promise_ I will never do that to you again."

She pulled away from him and looked up at him, and he smiled down at her softly, wiping her tears from her cheeks and softly kissing her forehead.

"You do know I love you right?" He whispered, taking her face in his hands and she nodded, giving him a soft smile.

"I love you too," she breathed as he pulled her into him again; giving her a firm squeeze before letting her go.

"We'll talk later ok?" He smiled and she nodded watching him walk down the hallway before closing the door and turning, her gaze going to Bruce who stood in the bathroom doorway in a pair of jeans.

She let out a deep sigh and he smiled softly, going over to her and taking her face in his hands, running his fingers through her hair.

"You ok?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into him, leaning his forehead against hers and she closed her eyes.

"Yeah, I need a vacation," she breathed and he laughed, kissing her on the nose and then brushing her hair out of her face.

"I think we could all use a vacation," he smiled and she shook her head, tracing his collar bone before pulling away.

"Put a shirt on, Fury wants to see us."

"Both of us?"

"Both of us," she confirmed and he frowned but went and picked up his shirt, sliding it over his head and shrugging it on before walking back over to her, holding his hand out to her.

"Shall we?" He smiled and she placed her hand in his, returning his smile before walking from the room, chewing her lip as her stomach did a flip.

Whenever Fury wanted her it was something about Clay, always something about Clay, she wished he would just disappear again, but that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon.

"So how did Evan take it?" Bruce asked and she couldn't help but blush, shaking her head and taking a deep breathe.

"Like a champ," she smiled up at him and he smiled back, his brown eyes gentle, soft, and her expression grew solemn, "you know I wouldn't have been able to make it through any of this without you."

"You're in this because of me," he frowned.

"I'm in this because of Clay," it almost hurt to say his name, to think of him as her brother, her twin, the one she would run to, and sometimes even crawl into bed beside when she had a nightmare or sometimes for no reason at all than to be close to him. Now she wanted nothing but to be very far from him.

She could tell the name roused certain feelings in Bruce as well, the way his face twisted and eyes darkened whenever she said his name.

Before he could reply they found themselves in a room, with Fury standing there as if he had been waiting in the same exact spot for hours.

"Well, I'm glad you two finally decided to show up," he scowled, now that she thought about it she'd never seen him smile.

"What did he do this time?" Bruce glanced over at her, almost wincing at the bitterness in her tone, the acid in her voice.

"He's doing this," Fury motioned to the screen as a picture appeared and Gwen gasped, her eyes going wide and Bruce gaped.

It was a photo of a young woman with blond hair matted with blood that dripped from her eyes, ears, mouth, and nose, her eyes black from corner to corner. Then another photo of a man, and another man, and another woman, all covered in blood with black eyes.

"Bruce, I believe you know all these people," it wasn't a question and Bruce swallowed, going pale beside her.

"They all worked with me when I was doing my gamma experiments… he's killed all of them…" he ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breathe.

"Oh yes, and he left me a message, sounding very upset about the fact that none of them knew anything," his gaze turned on Gwen, "and how soon we'll be wishing they had."

"I don't know anything, I know less than you do," Gwen bristled, her eyes ablaze, "I can try and guess what he might mean by it but it wouldn't be any better than yours."

"Gwen we need you to get to him, to stop him, I'm getting really tired of you playing the victim," Fury snapped.

"I'm getting really tired of you thinking I know what's going on in my brothers fucked up brain because guess what, I don't!" It had started as a growl that quickly escalated to a shout that left both men speechless and her jaw was clenched so tightly the muscles in her jaw were bulging.

"You want to know what he's up to, send someone who can actually get you information because I sure. As hell. Can't," she turned on the ball of her foot and stormed from the room, wishing she knew how to fight so she could bash his stupid face in.

But once she reached her room the anger faded and was replaced with frustration that made her want to bash her own face in. She groaned dropping onto the edge of the bed and pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.

She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to wake up and this all have been some terrible messed up dream, she wanted to go to sleep, and just not wake up.

"Fury's kind of pissed at you," Bruce sat down beside her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into him.

"I don't care anymore, I just want it all to go away, I just want it to be you and me, and nothing else," she sighed pressing her face into his neck, and closing her eyes.

His touch had become as familiar as air, she yearned for it, needed it, felt as if she were drowning without it and without much thought her lips moved to his, her arms going around his neck while his circled around her waist.

She could feel his hands on her back, big, warm, strong, and gentle, hands made for loving not hurting, and his mouth was soft, and careful against hers, and their bodies fit together just right. She pulled him down on top of her and for a moment she forgot about Fury, and she forgot about Clay, she forgot about the pictures, she forgot about all of it. And for a moment it was just him and her and nothing else.

"Gwen," he mumbled against her lips as his fingers moved to the edge of her shirt, "I just took a shower."

She smiled, and knotted her fingers into his hair, "you can take another one."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"No one will think anything of it."

"It's not just any one I'm worried about, will she trust you?"

"I don't know, Evan got in, she trusts him, why wouldn't she trust me?"

"Because _you're_ not Evan," Clay growled, his hands gripping the table so tight his purple knuckled went white.

"Come now," she moved so smoothly, so casually, stepping around the table and taking Clay's face in her hands, "there's no need to be nasty."

He looked over her with a guarded expression, her curled raven hair with a single pink streak framing her sharp face, her grey eyes mischievous and intense, lined in lashes thick with mascara, her lips coated in gloss.

She gasped, giggling as he pulled her close, their faces only inches apart and she bit her lip, running her fingers through his hair. She was so much like her but at the same time they couldn't have been more different, she was like Clay, dark, frowned at, tainted, but like her she was graceful, fluid, and stunning.

She placed a long kiss on his lips and then pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the table, pulling him close, "don't worry love, our baby sister will run to me like a starving man to food, and then she'll be yours."

"Anna," he clucked his tongue, grinning up at her, "You're a despicable person."

"But baby brother," she purred, leaning down to nip at his ear, "that's why you love me."


End file.
